After it became clear to me that Platonia was the arena in which to formulate Mach’s ideas, I soon realized that it was necessary to find some analogue of action that could be defined using structure already present in Platonia. With such an action it would be possible to identify some paths in Platonia as being special and different from other paths. In Leibniz’s language, such paths could be actual histories of the universe, as opposed to merely possible ones. The problem with Hamilton’s action was that it included additional structure that was present if absolute space and time exist, but absent if you insist on doing everything in Platonia. In 1971, with a growing family and financial commitments, I was doing so much translating work I had little time for physics. As luck would have it, the postal workers in Britain went on an extended strike. No more work reached me (no one thought of using couriers in those days) – it was bliss. I got down to the physics and soon had a first idea. It still took quite a time to develop it adequately, but eventually I wrote it up in a paper published in
It was certainly a turning point in my life. Some months after it appeared, I received a letter with some comments on it from Bruno Bertotti, who was, and still is, a professor of physics at the University of Pavia in Italy. Bruno, who is a very competent mathematician, has worked in several fields in theoretical physics. In fact, he was one of the last students of the famous Erwin Schrödinger, the creator of wave mechanics (Box 1). But he has also been active in experimental gravitational physics, and he organized the first two – and very successful – international conferences in the field. Although I can never stop thinking about basic issues in physics, I am at best an indifferent mathematician, so I was very lucky that my correspondence with Bruno soon developed into active collaboration. Sometimes Bruno came to work at College Farm, but mostly I went to Pavia. For seven years I went there for about a month, every spring and autumn. It was a very fruitful and rewarding collaboration: my work on Mach’s principle would never have developed into a real theory without Bruno’s input. I cannot say that we discovered any really new physics, because in the end we had to recognize that Einstein had got there long before us. What I think was important was that in two papers, published in 1977 and 1982, we laid the foundations of a genuine Machian theory of the universe. To our surprise, we then found that this theory is already present within general relativity, though so well hidden that no one (not even Einstein) suspected it. We had found a quite new route to his theory, and had the consolation to know that Einstein had by no means fully grasped the significance of his own theory.
In this connection, a remarkable coincidence that happened to me on my first visit to Pavia is worth recounting. I arrived on a Friday night. I was going to spend the first weekend sightseeing, and after breakfast on Saturday morning I wandered off with no set aim through the streets of Pavia in the warm April sunshine. After about twenty minutes I chanced upon a grand medieval house. A plaque outside said that in the 1820s the poet Ugo Foscolo had lived there. One could walk into the courtyard, which I did. It was Italy as you dream of it. This, I thought, was the place to live. Six months later, quite by chance, I learned that for two years, in the 1890s, it had been Einstein’s home. In his teens, the electrical firm run by his father and uncle in Munich had failed, and they had moved to Pavia and started another firm (which also failed). Somehow that chance episode in Pavia seems symbolic of my efforts in physics. Einstein was there first, long ago, but it was still worth the journey to see the place from the inside. It yielded a perspective, quite different from Einstein’s, which persuades me that Platonia is the true arena of the universe. If it is, we shall have to think about time differently.